


Kingdoms and Contracts (On Hiatus)

by Internet_XxxPl0r3rxxX



Series: Kingdoms and Contracts (Monster Prom) [1]
Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Deal with a Devil, F/F, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kinslaying, M/M, Multi, Mythology References, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protectiveness, Roommates, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 21:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20973245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Internet_XxxPl0r3rxxX/pseuds/Internet_XxxPl0r3rxxX
Summary: Vicky always wished the girl of her dreams would fall into her arms... she didn't really plan on that happening after she feinted from exhaustion and blood loss.After one fateful night, every knock on her door now brings either a new friend in need or a foe looking to harm the people she's caring for, more than anything, though, they bring questions.-How do you protect a princess from her dictatorial, kinslaying sister?-How do you break a demons contract and win back a soul?and, most importantly,-How do you stay alive long enough to find all that out?





	1. The Arrival (Brick By Dead! Boring Brick)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written for a friend as a birthday gift, the successive chapters written on a whim. If they get enough love here, I'll try and pick up from where I left off.

You wake up with a slight gasp. That's definitely knocking you hear at your dorm-room door, and the clock definitely says it's past 1:00 AM right about now. You go to spooky high and live in Monsterica, but it's still not too normal to hear a faint, frantic rapping on your door this late. You put on your slippers and walk to the door, arming yourself with the nearest thing you can find as you get closer. Hopefully an umbrella will work as well on a burglar as it does on rain. Oh crap, is this the one with a hole in it? You're doomed. 

No point in waiting on the inevitable. Whatever's on the other side of that door is hellbent on coming in one way or another. You undo the lock then rip the door back before raising your improvised weapon over your head as menacingly as you can manage. In response you get a small, shrill shriek, and look down to see a pink little princess, curled up into a ball and shaking like a bobblehead on top of a washing machine. "M-Miranda?" You ask, lowering your umbrella a little. Her face emerges from her arms as she slowly peers out from her fetal position. That's when you notice the trail of crimson dripping from the base of her dark pink hair. 

"Miranda!?" "Vicky please help me." She gets up when you put your arms around her and help her inside, hazarding a quick glance down both ends of the hall before locking the door behind you. She hovers where you left her, still shaking fiercely. A manic and terrified look has made its home in the one eye you see peering out from her decidedly unkempt hair. "Miranda what happened to you? Why are you here? Why are you bleeding?" "Th-th-there w-w-was a c-coup a-a-an-and-d-d" She's stuttering terribly, and shortly thereafter she begins to cry. 

Her voice sounds hoarse, as though she's been screaming. You slowly hug her again, not sure at first if doing so will set her off even more but continuing when she doesn't seem to react negatively. She buries her face in your shoulders. At least 5% of your attention is diverted to realize your favorite pajama shirt is probably ruined by blood stains forever now, but that's clearly not your most pressing concern. You softly tilt her head so she can look at you. "Miranda I'm going to go get some medical supplies from the bathroom, okay? Just sit here and try to breathe. You're okay now." 

Miranda still looks terrified, but she nods, curling up against one of the armrests of the couch. You hurry to the bathroom and look for the first aid kit you keep around. Technically you barely ever use anything but the needle and thread since, you know, franken-girl, but it pays to be prepared and it looks like today's payday. You get back to Miranda who peers over the couch at you as though she half expected you to be an intruder. You softly sit down next to her and open the med kit. "I need to check the wound, okay?" She bites her lip a little and nods, letting you move in and brush her hair to the side. 

It's not terrible, actually, more like she faceplanted onto pavement or maybe ran into a doorframe at an odd angle. A few scenarios flash through your mind, of her running from home, from pursuers. You know how the merkingdom operates, at any rate. If they still knew where she was or wanted to get her... well, neither of you would be sitting here right now.

You pour some alcohol onto a clean rag and dab away at her headwound, putting one of those big square bandage patches on once you've wiped away all the oozed-out blood. It should look derpy on her, but you have to admit you’ve always thought Miranda was pretty, even when she flips her collective shit. "So... What exactly happened?" She seems unsure at first but takes a deep breath and begins to tell you the story. "I woke up in the middle of the night. My door was cracked open, and I just managed to notice the serf holding a knife over my head before he brought it down. I rolled out of the way and just ran. I thought it might be an insurrection, but really that was a silly thing to think, my serfs loved me." 

You decide now's not the time to casually mention the Geneva-Convention nightmare that was her admittedly unwitting treatment of the lower classes. "No, they'd only ever attack one of the nobility if someone more powerful ordered them to. Someone like the ruler." "You're parents?" She shakes her head with a frown. "No, they would never do that. I ran to get them. I feel like a child saying that but if it really was a rebellion where else was I supposed to run to? They weren't in their quarters, so I ran to the throne room. I thought maybe they would be making a valiant last stand against the rabble. But there weren't any guards outside. The door was slightly ajar, like my room. I peered in and... a-and-"

And then she's crying again. She falls forward burying her face into your chest and sobbing deeply. Then she starts coughing, and you panic a little when you hear how rough it sounds, almost like strep. "How long has she been running to get here?" you wonder. "Miranda, shhh it's okay. It's okay." You rock back and forth and hum, placing a hand over her heart as you do. Your mom always used to do that when you were scared growing up and thankfully it seems to work. She's stopped coughing, at least. You sit her up straight and then leave just for a moment to get her a glass of water. She thanks you in a soft, shaky voice before she drinks most of it in one gulp. She puts the glass down and you take her hands in yours. She squeezes them, tightly, and for a long time neither of you say anything. 

"They were dead." Logically this was where the story was going but you can't help but gasp a little when you hear her say it. You've never met her parents, not personally, but by their reputation they almost seemed more like forces of nature than people. The dual heads of a great conquering empire that the whole world looked upon with fear and terror. It's kind of hard to think they could have been in a loving relationship with anything but power, but Miranda is proof to the contrary. Her voice is low now, drained of all sadness and fear, numb. 

"My sisters were there, arguing with each other, and the palace guards were by the walls just watching it all happen. Watching their rulers lie dead on the floor. I walked in. It was stupid but, I just... I couldn't believe it. This had to be a nightmare. This couldn't be real. Everyone stopped to look at me..." You shuffle to sit closer to her. "Two of them, Amanda and Laudanda, started to say something. They turned and started talking to me. And then Bellanda-" The worry returns to her voice and the words die in her throat. "She's your next oldest sister, right?" "...Yes." Miranda continues. 

"She pulled out two daggers and just... Stabbed them both in the back. I tried to scream out a warning but by the time I said the words the knives were already hilt-deep. Everyone was frozen all over again, but not Bellanda. She pointed to me and said "There's the last of the traitors. Execute her, your Queen demands!" It all hit me at once. This was a coup. My sisters murdered our parents, and then each other. They wanted me gone from the beginning, and now I had seen it all. Now I had seen too much. So, I just… ran. I ran while the guards chased after me, I ran through seaweed forests and reefs and the seafloor until I reached the surface and then I kept running until I made it to Spooky High. Until I made it to you." 

She finally looks up from the floor, and her eyes bore into your soul. The bright gleam you couldn't get enough of has been replaced by a cold and distant glaze.

"Vicky, save me."

The words hit you like a truck. A thousand thoughts run through your head all at once, chief amongst them how and when a fishy assassin is going to shove a harpoon through you for harboring the Merkingdoms current number one fugitive, but they all come and go in an instant. You take a breath and stand, still holding her hand. You lead her to stand up and follow you to your room, then you ease her into bed. You pull the covers over her and flip the pillows over to the cool side. "I promise you'll be safe here." "But what if they find me?" 

You puff out your chest and strike a cartoonish hero pose. "They'll have to get through me first, Princess Miri!" She doesn't crack a smile, but her eyes do shine a bit brighter, so you guess that worked. You turn to leave, and she asks, "Where are you going?" "Huh? Oh well I mean I was going to crash on the couch so you could have the bed." 

"Could..."  
Oh.  
"Could you..."  
Oh no.  
"I-if it's not asking too much could you, perhaps..."  
This is not happening right now.  
"Stay with me? Here?" 

And there it goes. She said it. The girl you definitely haven't been daydreaming about since the first week of high school just asked you to crawl into bed with her. Your bed. You know it's not THAT way, that you're really doing this as more of a friend than a... well a different kind of "friend", but you still feel rather conflicted about this. This is the type of scenario that would fit right in one of Zoe's stories, and to top it off she's as emotionally vulnerable as can be. You think about it for a moment, but you can't say no. It's not that way. Hell, Miranda probably wouldn't even understand the implications unless you made a PowerPoint explaining them. 

You awkwardly slide in next to her and sort of just lock your arms and legs in place as though you're going down a waterslide. "Thank you, Vicky." "O-of course." You're not sure how long it is. Half an hour, an hour, two, but for what feels like forever you just stare up at the ceiling, lips pressed into a thin line. "This really isn't happening." You mutter under your breath... And then one of her arms slings over you and your eyes pop out of your head. 

"IT'S HAPPENING!" you mentally scream. You tilt your head to see if Miranda can see your panic but she's out cold. More than that she's sound asleep, a look of calm and restfulness splayed across her face that looks so foreign compared to the mask of terror she wore when she first entered your home. You stare awhile, rude though it may be. Even when the world's crashing down around her, she's still so beautiful. You try to slip out of the armlock she's got you in, but she stirs a little, and you hate to admit it but your heart feels all fluttery when she whispers your name in her sleep. Might as well go all in, you decide. 

You gingerly wrap your arms around her and rest her head in the crook of your neck. You're mostly sure you just imagined the happy sort of sound you heard. Mostly. You have no idea where this is going. You have no idea what will be thrown your way in the days to come, or if you can even prepare for any of it. You don't know if Miranda's your roommate now and if it'll stay that way, or if you even want it to stay that way. The only thing you do know is she trusted you to protect her, and whether that's from bad dreams now or hitmen later, you're going to give it your all. Because you Lo-ike her. Like. That's definitely what you feel about the girl you're spooning in bed with. Just two girls being gay. Wait- being girls! Two girls being girls. Yup. That is the extent of the situation you are in right now for sure.


	2. Enter the Antagonist (I Can't Decide)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The villain appears, as does Polly. Let's be honest, she's the real star of the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm usually hesitant of using OC's, since they oft come off as cringey, self indulgent, or ham fisted, but I'm hoping the villain to this little story vibes well with y'all over time.

Your name is Vicky, and you really thought that you'd only have to deal with one instance of someone knocking on your door in the middle of the night this week, but nope. Miranda's staying with Amira for the weekend. There was a scare when you turned to see a fishman in a cartoonish trench coat and hat getup tailing you on your walk home. It could have been that your piercing gaze reminded him that he, as a fish person, could not in fact breathe air, but your friends agreed this was wishful thinking and Amira was the toughest person you knew willing to open her door on such short notice. Speaking of doors let's try getting back to yours.  
The knocking is a continuous and impatient thak-thak-thak-thak that doesn't show any sign of stopping. Once more you grab the nearest thing you can find as you approach, a handheld vacuum. Your enemies shall know to tremble when they see your wicked armament, for truly it is the mightiest of ah who are you kidding if there's a gill-toting assassin on the other side of that door you're screwed. Still, you decide against opening the door up at first, instead you loudly ask, "Who's there!?" "Girl, you up?" You hear a familiar voice respond. 

Suddenly a ghostly visage phases through the door. It would be a horrifying experience if not for the fact this is pretty standard where you live. It helps that the ghost is sporting some trademark shades you could point out anywhere. "Polly?" "Oh heyyy Vickster." Polly pulls the rest of her body through the door and plants her feet on the floor. "So how're things?" "Uh... good, I guess?" "Great to hear, how's Miri holding up?" "Uh well-" "Wow that's super, hey I need to crash here tonight. And maybe tomorrow night. And maybe forever." 

Your shoulders tense a little. The idea of having to provide for another friend doesn't even cross your mind, as you're too busy imagining what Polly's antics are going to bring about this time around. She walks on past you and to the bathroom. "Hmm yeah this'll do. I'll just sorta haunt the shower, float around n' biz." "You're going to haunt my shower?" "Hm yeah you're right, don't want to accidentally wake up while you're in there naked." You blush more than you'd like to admit at the thought of that.  
"Oh, I know, the mirror! That way when you're getting ready in the morning, I can hype you up. Be like your own personal Scott while you're doing your makeup and shit." "That actually sounds kinda nice." "Yeah gurl. Lemme just..." Polly floats towards the medicine cabinet mirror and then just sort of launches into it. She makes an "OoOoOoO" sound that's more silly than spooky as she wiggles her way into view on her side of the mirror. "Aw this is perfect Vick! That guy'll never find me here." "Wait, what guy-" 

"Damn girl look at the time I'm gonna find the bedroom on this side of mirror-space and get some shuteye." "But, Polly-" "Byyyyyyyyyeeeee..." She says as she walks away and flips the peace sign.  
You sort of just stand there for a few seconds before you sigh and crawl back into bed. What's the threat of one more potential assailant these days, right? Actually, it's quite a lot. And you wish your friends would stop doing this to you. 

You have nightmares that night. You wake up and start cooking before hitting the bathroom, forgetting that Polly doesn't eat. You're just about to finish scooping the scrambled eggs out onto the plates with that little red plastic spatula thing every kitchen drawer has when you hear yet another knock. At least it's not the middle of the night, though you doubt that'll improve things. You groan and rub your eyes as you shuffle to the door in your faded blue bear slippers. You open it expecting yet another one of your quirky friends but are surprised to see... wait, you actually don't know this guy. 

He's tall. Not quite lanky but somewhat on the thinner side. He's wearing amber colored sunglasses and a maroon vest-pants suit combo with a white undershirt, the sleeves semi-messily rolled up to his elbows. He looks almost like a peach-skinned human dotted with a few odd freckles on his nose and face, slightly covered by a thick mop of shaggy red hair. "Morning, miss. Hate to be a bother." He says in a voice that might almost classify as sultry if not for the slight Scottish accent. "Uh, sure, it's cool. Do I know you?" He flicks his wrist and a business card appears in a little burst of flames and smoke. "Mephistopheles Junior: Businessman, deal-maker, wish-granter."

He presses the card into your hand, grabbing you and twirling you around like a dancing partner as he shifts past you into your apartment. "I must say you have a lovely home Miss... I'm sorry I don't think I quite caught your name." "It's um, Vicky-" "Miss Vicky! Yes, lovely decorations. Most of the students around here have rather spartan accommodations. It's quite refreshing seeing someone remember to spruce up a little." "Thanks...?" He paces about a bit looking around, a lazy grin on his face. "Ah, nearly forgot ta state my purpose in knocking on your door." "And just walking in..." you mutter under your breath. 

"Y'see, that business card isn't for show. I really am all that and more. Of course, it's not too hard to meet such boasts given my line of work and preferred method of payment." You're not sure why but you suddenly feel a lot worse about this stranger in your home. "And what would those be, respectively?" "Well, Miss Vicky, I'm what they would call a 'Soul-Broker'," He pulls out and unfurls an immaculate yet old looking scroll with arcane yet (somehow) readable text upon it. It kinda hurts your eyes to look at. "All someone has to do is read the terms and conditions- actually, most folks skip that part- and sign their legal name on the dotted line, and I can put a smile on their face and lead them into that sunset at the end of the fairytale everyone wants to walk into, whatever it may be." "And I'm guessing you get their souls as collateral?" "Collateral? Haha, no, I get them outright. To be fair it's all in the terms and I make such clear before someone signs. I need to eat too, but I might as well be honest about these things." 

He sighs as he rolls up the scroll and somehow fits it back under his vest in one fluid motion. "Unfortunately, some folks seem to try and back out once the deal is done. It's to be expected, but annoying nonetheless, you understand. That's why I'm here, y'see..." He slowly paces towards you, his dress shoes making deep, punctuated taps against your tile floor. Without even thinking you back-pedal, until you hit the wall. "There was this fine young lass at the bar last night, admittedly she might have had a few too many. We got to talking and, it's rather funny actually, she thought my name was "Meth"istopheles. I was about to correct her but then she said she'd do anything for some Meth, then and there. I'm not much of a user myself but a dose of the devil's delights is something I could easily grant her, for the right price. And well, that's where the problems arise. She signed, after a fair warning of course, proceeded to dive headfirst into the small mountain of baggies, and I went about my night waiting for her to finish. She sobered up right quick when I mentioned that it was time to collect, though." 

"W-what does all this have to do with me?" You ask. You admit you're starting to freak out a little now that this probably-demonic salesman has your back literally up against a wall. "Well, that spooky little Sally's name was Polly Geist. And after some asking around as to where she ran off to, someone pointed me to her dear friend Vicky." "I don't know what you're talking about, I'm the only one staying here." "Is that so?" He says, partially amused. "Yeah, I am." You reply, somewhat shakily but with just a hint of defiance. 

You two give each other the death-stare for a long time, until he hinges forward, and his smirk begins to show some teeth that are definitely sharper than the human form he's sporting should have. Your noses are an inch apart, and his eyes are just barely poking out from under his shades. You can see enough to know that they're decidedly screwed up, no sclera or irises, just warped colors. He keeps staring at you as he raises one arm to point at the kitchen counter.

"Then why do you have two plates of food put out, luv?" 

You glance over at the counter. Crap, that's right. You forgot Polly doesn't eat and you figured you might as well be a good host. You gulp, and you swear his smiles widens a bit at the sound. "L-leave. Now." "...Ah I get it, how rude of me." He finally leans back and walks past you to the door. "I don't know many people who have breakfast dates, but I should've read the atmosphere." He says in a voice dripping with fake sincerity. He turns the handle and puts one foot through the entrance. "Truly sorry to have bothered you. But, ah, just so we're on the same level here..." he faces you once more. "Ms. Vicky... I always get my due. And I'm not one to be ungrateful. If you could provide me any help in this matter, I'd be sure to repay you. Help you move, toss you some cash, maybe even aid you in some more, shall we say..." He breaks into a sharp toothed smileas he softly brings the door to a close behind him. "..."Fishy" business?" 

Clik. The door is finally closed, and he's finally gone. You're a bundle of nerves right now. You NEED a few minutes to- "Omg Vicky-" You scream. Shriek is probably more accurate. You fall to the floor and curl up into a ball, Polly having caught you completely off guard. "Oh shit sorry, sorry!" There's another knock on the door and you bite into your arm just to stop yourself from screaming out loud again. "Miss Vicky, everything alright in there?" Polly goes pale at Mephistopheles’s voice, even by ghost standards. "Yes, I'm fine! I just burned myself on the stove!" "Would you like any help?" "Really I'm alright!" "...Alrighty then." They listened as his footsteps faded down the hallway before mutually breathing a sigh of relief. 

"Vicky I'm so super sorry." "Polly just-! Ahg!" You flail around for a bit making disgruntled and panicked noises. "What is going on? Who was that guy?! Why are you hiding from him!?!" Polly looks away and rubs her neck. "Okay so uh, haha... C'mon girl you know me. The Polly Party Train is a nonstop joyride. I was uh... running low on fuel, aka drugs, and then here we go a guy who had a drug in his name and said he could hook me up if I just signed on a paper, and tbh I was pretty smashed so..." She shrugs, points two finger guns and you and gives a nervous smile. "I sorta just said ye." "Polly!" She groans and floats off the ground as she arches back to better emphasize how much she hates this. 

"I know it was stupid NOW okay? but I don't got any foresight! These wicked-sexy shades I'm rocking blot out the sun AND visions of the future!" "Look Polly usually I'm up for your jokes but I am not going to accept you diverting blame to your SUNGLASSES after a devil loan-shark guy shoved his way into my home and basically dropped the bomb that he knows about Miranda!" "I know, I know! But I can't let him find me Vicky! He owns my soul now, or whatever. I'm a ghost, I'm nothing BUT soul! What if he like, controls me and stuff? I'm a prank girl, a party girl, not a puppet girl! Besides you met him he's friggin creepy AF." 

You hear genuine fear in Polly's voice. It's more than the concerned tone she has when she's suddenly reminded of the fact you have to put in effort at school or you flunk. You admit that the idea of being on a leash held by that guy doesn't sound like it can have any positive outcomes. "Just... lemme hang here for a bit, okay? I literally don't take up any space, you can walk right through me!" She grabs you by the wrists, still floating a bit off the ground. "Dude I... I don't have anywhere else to go, alright? Please." You exhale, in a bit of an exasperated way. You're honestly wondering how many other friends you're going to have knocking on your door by the end of this. You're honestly wondering if you'll ever be able to tell one of them no.

"Alright, you can stay!" Polly's eyes light up as she flies around the room. "Yaaaaaas!" "But no drugs, and no parties." "Ya- wait, what?" "Between you and Miranda there's not enough room in here for that sort of thing, and drugs are what got you here in the first place." She pouts but eventually goes back to ground level and nods her agreement with a huff. "Well at least I can hang out with Miri. Not like me and her can just walk around in the open for the time being." "Right, I hadn't thought about all that. What about school though?" "Principle Giant Spider should be cool with Miri given the whole "international fugitive situation." Plus her parents are... not around. He's a softie about that kind of stuff so I'm sure she can get some deadlines moved a good ways back. As for me, well let's be honest I always find some way to avoid being expelled." "Is that your special Polly Power?" "Yyyup. The power to always stumble my way out of any lame situation! Usually while buzzed." You both laugh a little before hitting breakfast. 

Polly puts the second plate into a Tupperware, so you don't have to cook tomorrow morning, and you gobble your plate with what little time you have left before you have to leave for school. Things aren't getting any simpler, that's for sure. But one thing you do know, or at least sort of feel, is that you can Frankenstein together a halfway decent solution to whatever comes your way next. 

At least, you hope so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any tags you think I should add, let me know.


	3. Enter Dos Amigos (Ram Jam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amira, Brian, a bit about them, and a few attempts at humor. Hope you enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference, the characters are all still at Spooky High. Prom has just already gone off and the last few months are winding down.

For once you're the one doing the knocking. You're in front of Amira's house, a suburban home built with yard-space in mind, something that's been helpful for the sporadic parties she throws. Her and Brian bunk together here, less for fondness of each other (Brian seems distant around everyone, really) and more for practicality. While you and Oz are more focused on school and as such reside in the dorms, Amira and Brian don't see college as offering all that much to them, especially when they're already raking in cash from the Oberlin sisters. They work for Vera and Valerie respectively. Amira never tells you much of what goes on save for the fact that "Vera Oberlin appreciates the company of other dangerous women." You get the vague idea that she smiles when she says that because there's something more than just a salary she's getting out of their arrangement, whatever it actually is. Brian on the other hand is more up front about the situation. "I carry heavy things for her and tail her on more shady deals. She can handle herself, but she likes the extra muscle, even if it's rotting. Sometimes we get drunk and listen to her CD collection after a gig, sometimes we go out to drink if we're feeling fancy and like we didn't get followed. Never gone beyond that." His tone always gets sharper at that last point, perhaps a bit more accusatorial. Given the constant talks of who-likes-who and games of fuck-marry-kill you all used to drag him into at the beginning of high school, you can kind of understand why. Suffice it to say their shared employers and similar pursuits led them to co-paying for the house you're in front of right now, the house you're here to collect Miranda from.

You see Brian first, he steps out the door and nods at you, making the briefest moment of eye contact before walking to the curb as a car with the Uber symbol rolls up. You vaguely recall him saying that "You can't get tailed if you don't use your own car." "Such a warm greeting, asshole!" Amira yells at him as she rests in the doorway with a grin. He flips the bird as he steps in the vehicle and speeds off out of view. "Hey Schmidt. You're looking nice today." You do a hair flip that is certainly more silly than it is sexy and say "Well thank you Ms. Rashid. You're looking pretty HOT yourself." "Wow, every time I hear that it gets a little bit worse, it honestly does." "Is that Vicky?" you hear a voice call from inside. "Yeah Miri we're all good. No goons just like I told ya." Miranda shyly pokes her head out of the house but smiles warmly when she sees you. She even hugs you. Amira's grin goes wide like the Cheshire cat when she sees your face turn redder than her jacket. "It is so good to see you again!" "It's good to see you too Miranda. Oh, and I have some, um, good news! Polly's staying with us too!" "Polina will be with us? Wonderful!" "Yeah it really is!" you say with a small mountain of forced enthusiasm. Amira shoots you a look over Miranda's shoulder. "Uh, hon how about you go grab your things? I wouldn't mind hosting again but there's not much storage space to go around here so it'd really help if you gathered them up." "Am I not to walk back to the apartment with Vicky?" "I'll drive you. Just make extra sure you have everything, m'kay?" "Indeed." She walks back into Amira’s house, and the second she's out of her view Amira returns her attention to you. "So, Geist... what's up with that?" "Ah well you know just a sort of spur of the moment thing, haha." You've got a terrible poker face and a nigh-non-existent ability to keep composure while telling a lie to a friend. You know through countless experiences such as this with Amira. And you know she's already called bullshit. "Vicky let's not do this little dance, okay? I know you like Miri. Like, REALLY like her. I know that she seems to be doing better but she still jumps at every passing shadow and suffers from terrors most nights. Polly's not insensitive but she's loud and a little dense, as much as we all might love her for it. You pick up on everything about the people around you especially when you care about them. You know that her usual self and Miranda aren't exactly a good combination for "spur of the moment" indefinite roommates." "I-I didn't say indefinite." "Ya just did when your voice cracked trying to lie again." "...Dangit." "Seriously, what's up? I don't want Miranda to have to hear this but I'm finding out about whatever it is now." 

Amira has always been direct and less than diplomatic, especially when it comes to cutting to the heart of an issue, peeling back the mystery behind a friends problem. Particularly when that friend is you. You'd say you and Oz have hung out more on account of shared interests and alike personalities, but you've known Amira longer. She doesn't say it of course but she'd charge the gates of hell for you, which to be fair isn't quite as bold an undertaking as it may sound given your groups usual antics. You know you have to tell her. You just hope she doesn't react too... explosively. "Polly sold her soul." "No shit? But wait, she's a ghost. How does that even..." "Basically if the guy she signed the contract with ever finds her it's a "do as I say" kind of situation no matter how much she might hate it. He would own her, control is probably more accurate." Amira's eyes take on a darker tone at hearing this. "Damnit Polly... why did she- No lemme guess, drugs?" "Drugs. She thought the guy was named "Meth"istopheles and apparently he had enough on him to make her think that was the case." "Wait... Mephistopheles?" "Yeah that's his name. Gave me a card and everything." You hand her the card in question and she studies it carefully. "What did he look like?" "Kinda tall, thin, freckley, long red hair, well I mean for a guy it was long. Down to his shoulders." "Did he wear mostly red too? Like dark red?" "Yes! Wait how do you know about all of this?" She steps closer to you, her mouth a frown and her brow furrowed. "Mephistopheles is pretty much an urban legend underground." "Underground?" "Well not literally. Like... Vera stuff?" You shoot her a confused look. "Sigh... Crime, Vicky. I don't do anything outright evil for her, but I wouldn't say my work is always above board either. We've dealt with some less than savory people, and we hear names tossed around all the time." "What have you heard about him?" "He's trying to get 1,000 souls. No idea why." "Sounds kinda stereotypical." "Last I heard he's already got around 700." "Sounds kinda worrying!" You say in a cracked voice, your eyes popping out of your head a bit. 

Okay, so you're not just dealing with some rando. You're not just dealing with some little small-time demon or thug or whatever with delusions of grandeur. You're dealing with someone who's been doing this long enough to get 700 souls. Who's been determined and ruthless enough to get 700 souls. And now you're standing in the way of one of those souls. You already have to protect Miranda from assassins "Vicky?" and now you've got the devils red-headed step child knocking at your door "Vicky?" so realistically speaking it's just a matter of time before you get kidnapped or your apartment gets blown up or "VICKY!" You snap awake realizing you've been staring into space with a sort of manic look in your eyes. Amira is looking at you with yet more concern. "Please tell me you have a plan." "y-Yes I DO!" You say attempting to put up the slightest bit of determination for Amira's sake." And what would that be?" "To not open the door the next time he knocks!" "He was at your house!?" You have failed immediately and utterly. You can feel your stats drop like the subscriber count of a youtuber at the center of an internet controversy. "Is everything alright?" Miranda asks, returning with a bundle of clothing and pillows. "Yes, everything's fine. We were just talking about the latest episode of this show we watch." Amira says without missing a beat. Before Miranda can ask the name, she takes her things and ushers both of you to her car, whispering "We're not done talking about this" into your ear as she passes you. You all get in and fasten your seatbelts, as Amira turns on the radio. Loud enough to be heard, quiet enough to be spoken over. You realize sitting silently usually leads to a spiral of what-ifery and panic, so you start chatting up Miranda. "So what'd you get up to this weekend?" "Oh, it was most enjoyable! After some initial misgivings about my safety I realized Brian and Amira were indeed quite capable of protecting me as they regaled me with tales of their many adventures!" You crook an eyebrow at Amira. "Adventures?" She mutters "Jobs" and does the quotation thing with one of her hands. "Ah, right. You guys do anything fun?" "We watched some movies and ate a lot of takeout. Took a while to convince Miri the Chinese fried shrimp wasn't secretly sent by the Merkingdom but all in all it was pretty nice." "What was your favorite movie?" You ask turning to look at Miranda again. "Oh well that's quite the hard decision. I'd have to say..." She goes on to list her likes and dislikes of several movies, and after a certain point you begin to tune out. You're glad that she's been able to bounce back, emotionally. The first few days with you she'd barely get out of bed or say a word unless spoken to. Now she's bouncing up and down in the back seat ranting about plotlines and character arcs. She's still not quite as bubbly as the girl she was before. But you at least get the feeling she's on the path to recovery. 

You pull into the parking lot of the dormitories and step out of the car, Miranda seemingly insistent on carrying her bag by herself. She's seemed somewhat more self-reliant when it comes to managing her belongings since she arrived at your doorstep. Whether it's to become stronger or hold on as tightly as she can to the few things she has left, you can't tell. "Hey Miranda, can you give me and Vicky a moment? We just need to talk about something." She seems uncertain to go alone, at first. It's a sentiment you share. But she nods and walks along while you turn to speak to Amira. "Is she still here?" "Yeah... she's in the bathroom mirror. Not really sure how that works but it's what she's doing." "Alright, so be honest with me here Schmidt. Do you have any ideas on how to deal with this? Any ways of protecting yourself?" "No. I'm always looking over my shoulder but honestly if I see anyone coming the most I can do is run." "Do you at least have a gun tucked away somewhere?" You shake your head. "Baseball bat?" You shake your head again. "Vampire bat?" "No Liam's not staying here. Though honestly I wouldn't be surprised if he came knocking too." "Vicky I-" Amira trails off, and you both tense up as you hear a familiar voice talking to... "Miranda!" You shout in unison, running into the dorms. You see him the second you round the corner, wearing the same getup he was in last time. He kisses her hand and straightens back up, in a gesture of mock chivalry. "It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance Princess Vanderbilt. I'm terribly sorry for your loss." "Thank you... I'm sorry but I do believe we haven't met before." "Mephistopheles Junior, I'm an acquaintance of Ms. Schmidt- Ah speak of the devil's-due, here she is!" He exclaims, turning to you with an animated expression, his warped eyes just barely popping up over the rim of his sunglasses. "And Ms. Rashid as well! What a pleasant surprise." "Sup asshat?" Amira says. "Ah there's that coarse sense of humor everyone finds so charming. Or was it alarming? Anyways, I was just in the neighborhood, dropping by, looking for leads on... well," he tilts his head in your direction. "You know... when I realized I never made the acquaintance of our resident royal. A terrible mistake on my part to be sure, one in need of correcting. Though I must now depart. Places to go, deals to make, debts to collect on. Oh but, princess," He says twisting back to face Miranda, his voice softer. "Do give me a call if you ever find yourself in need of a miracle. After all, what use is a soul?" He summons one of his little business cards and hands it to her, departing with a low, quiet chuckle. Amira immediately walks over and snatches it from her, burning it. "Take her upstairs and call Vera. Tell her Amira needs a favor and that's to help you. She should have an idea of where to start." "What are you going to do?" You ask. 

"I'm gonna track down a demonic dipshit that messed with the wrong Djinn's friends." she says, flashing you a dangerous smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Were the shorter mini-paragraph breakups from before better, or do the longer text-blobs we're rocking here look more appealing?


	4. Oberlin House Call (Don't Mess With Me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Oberlin sisters show up for some Morale support and self defense lessons. And to tease Vicky about her crush.

This time you're expecting the knock on the door you hear, and already know who's going to be on the other side. You open the door to the Oberlin sisters, Valerie and Vera. Vera is cold, cunning, and ruthless, but there's a certain grace about her. You'd somewhat aptly describe it as snakelike, irony aside, due to the ingrained contrast of alluring and dangerous her persona gives off. Despite her often-callous nature, she does have some fondness for you, likely helped along by your relation to Amira. It's probably why she said she'd be over in under an hour despite the fact you know her schedule is both meticulously planned out and near-constantly fully booked. Her sister on the other hand, Valerie, is quite divergent in character. While she's no less driven in her goals (especially the pursuit of wealth) She's of a much more "go with the flow" mindset, acting with little prior planning and only the barest consideration. You still wouldn't peg her as reckless, though. From "acquiring" the internal organs of legendary beasts and trying to sell them off in the cafeteria to beating three consecutive members of the wolfpack in an arm-wrestling match (admittedly by distracting them with beef jerky) she's regularly proven to be more than capable of defending herself. And Brian helps her out sometimes too, you absentmindedly recall. 

"I normally charge for visitations such as these, but Amira called in a very specific favor owed for a very specific service. And before you ask no, it wasn't anything lurid, but I'm legally required to not divulge details on the matter for the time being. And, as far as house calls go, your home is certainly more appealing than most of the trap houses and semi-abandoned factories I consult for." "Cordial as ever, sis. Hey Vick." "Hey Vera, hey Valerie. I'm really glad you two could make it. I honestly need as much help as I can get." Your smile is sincere, but there's an undercurrent of anxious exhaustion beneath the surface. You hope it isn't showing. Polly phased in through a nearby wall, floating slightly off the floor. "Heyyy girls. Wassup?" "Hello Polly. I see this is where you've been avoiding payment for the past week?" "Uhg, does everyone seriously know about that?" "Everyone at the school? No. Everyone even tangentially a part of our "friend-group", yes. You leave a rather noticeable void of silence and sobriety whenever you're not present for longer than an afternoon." "Well I am the unlife of the party." "Hello?" You hear someone call. "Is that Miri?" Valerie asks. "Yeah, she's in the tub. She sleeps in my bed, but she has to soak every once in a while to stay healthy, she's not used to being out of water for as long as she's been lately." You answer. The two sisters quirk an eye, sly grins spreading across their faces. "So she's in your bed?" Vera asks. You lock up immediately realizing how that sounds. "N-NO WAIT she's in my bed yeah but I'm sleeping on an air mattress!" Valerie rests an arm on your shoulder. "Hey, it's all good V. We're used to people "sleeping with the fishes", I mean not literally but-" You bury your face in your hands and groan. "UHGGGGG, can you please just help me protect my house?" Valerie laughs as she bounces off of your shoulder and pats you on the back. "Course' buddy, it's what we're here to do. Hey Vera, how about you start her out, I'm gonna check in with these guys, see how they're doing." "That sounds good." Valerie walks into the bathroom, which might as well be the Livingroom considering how often more than one person is in there lately. 

Vera steps around the house slowly, inspecting every little detail, each step punctuated by the resounding clack of her heels on the tiled floor. You sort of just sit awkwardly waiting for her to finish, nibbling on some chips. "I've noticed you have one lock on your door and a chain, that's it." "Well, yeah, that's how the doors come in the dorms." "A lock, especially an easy little one on the handle, can be picked. From there someone can open the door, slowly but surely, and see how far out the chain goes without making noise. They can, based on the length, reach their hand through and undo it, similarly with little noise if they know what they're doing. Tell me, are you a light sleeper Vicky?" "I, mean I wouldn't say I'm a heavy sleeper but..." "Polly, Miranda?" "Polly stays up late most nights, around 2:00, 2:30ish. When she does fall asleep she usually crashes hard though. Even without the drugs she's out for the count once she lays down. Miranda used to be really jumpy for every little thing. If something wakes her up she'll still freak out but she sleeps through more now, so about in the same boat as me I'd say." "That's not what I was hoping to hear." Vera turns to the entrance of your home again, tapping a manicured nail against her glossy lips. "Do you eat canned food often?" "Um, yes I suppose. It's easy to cook but tastes better than-" "Yes yes, wonderful. Now do you have something like string or twine? Hell, even floss?" "All of those actually. Mostly string. I picked some up for Miranda to stitch up the dress she came in, and I need some for, well, me I guess." You say tapping at the stitches holding your franken-frame together. "Alright well I think this should be easy enough for you to do then." Vera takes out a little notepad and tears off the front page, placing the pad back in her purse and pulling out a pen. She scribbles a little diagram on the paper. "Don't toss your cans when you're done with them. Rinse them out, poke a little hole somewhere in the middle, preferably on the base, then run a string through about..." Vera turns to take a quick glance at the door. "Six of them should do. Place each end of the string on either side of the door, use a thumbtack or something, decent tape maybe. If someone tries coming in, the string comes undone and the cans clatter all over, waking you up." "Couldn't I just stack some cans against the corner of the door?" "Well sure Vicky, if you want any intruders to think you're a basic hoarder who doesn't put any effort into their DIY security." "Okay sorry. And um... What do we do?" "What do you mean what do you do?" "You know when-" You catch yourself. "If-" Vera raises a hand. "Not to be a pessimist but you were probably right the first time." You sigh. "What do we do when we hear the cans?" "Well that's your que to either jump out the window or grab your guns if you're feeling a little more ballsy." "Vera this is a second story apartment!" "I thought all of you color-squaders knew parkour. I mean Green and Amira do." "Because they do stuff for you all the time and hang out with Damien more than the rest of us! It's kind of a survival necessity." Alright well no jumping then. Just grab your guns." You give her an exasperated look, hers in turn going from boredom to genuine surprise. "Oh, Vicky please don't tell me-" "I don't like guns, okay!? And to be fair I didn't think I'd exactly need one considering everyone I hang out with has some kind of magical powers or mystic martial arts or armies of minions or something!" "Okay first up, you need to calm down. Secondly, how much money do you have on you?" "Um..." If we were using stats in this story, you'd have about 7 money. We're not, but since the devs never explain how much Monsterica currency is worth, let’s just say you have 7. Vera snatches it up out of your hand as soon as you present it, flipping through it and stashing it in a pocket before reaching into her purse. She places two plastic looking pistols on the counter and reaches back into her bag, fumbling around for a little before twisting her head to face the bathroom door. "Hey Valerie!" "Yeah?" "Do you have a spare Glock?" The door opens and a gun is tossed haphazardly through the air. Your heart stops, but Vera catches it as if it were a frisbee. "I don't see what you were so worried about Vicky, the safety's..." She looks to the back of the gun and twists a little lever on it. "On. Safety's on. It was definitely always like that. Now the Glock is a handy dandy little device mostly used for hold-ups, gas station robberies, and for occupying space in middle-aged men’s glove compartments. There is one here for each of you, with a full clip of 15 rounds, give or take..."

Vera goes on like that for a while. You absorb most of the information, but your mind keeps hovering back to that "sleeping with the fishes" line every so often. Anyone who's known you longer than a month knows you like Miranda. Okay, like is probably an understatement. You're head over heels for her. You enjoyed listening to her lecture about silverware just to hear her voice, enjoyed getting involved in her various schemes only to help her realize (at least a little) that maybe serfs are people too, and, though you've never told anyone, you enjoyed those times in theatre when you got to play the part of her Knight. But now? Now she's lost, broken, afraid. Cooped up inside your apartment save for the odd visit to a sufficiently well defended friend’s house. If you made a move before it'd be on the majestic princess who radiated grace and regality. If you made a move now, you'd be leaning on someone wholly dependent upon you. And you know it's not like that, and everyone keeps telling you she's actually quite fond of you, but you're just not sure it's the right time. Love can come after loss, sure, but it should be a while. You're just not sure how long "a while" is for something as messed up as losing your parents, your sisters, and your way of life all in one fell swoop. "You're thinking about her aren't you?" "Huh?" Vera has a hand on her hip as she looks down at you in your seat. You wouldn't call it a glare but with her it's always pretty close. "You've got that look on her face, the one you always have when you're fantasizing about your princess." "I-is it that obvious?" You say, averting your eyes and blushing. "To everyone but her, yes. Luckily she's as oblivious as you are easy to read." Vera sits down next to you. "I understand you'd never try and capitalize on having her so close to you right after she moved in. I'd have you buried if you tried something so underhanded, but you do know you can still like her, right?" "I'm just not sure I can. I'm basically her guardian now Vera. Heck with how much she still doesn't know how to do since she was so pampered for so long, I'm really more of her keeper. If I tried to slide in, relationship wise, wouldn't that be kinda... scummy?" "95% of my life revolves around dealing with scum in its many different forms Vicky. I don't think scumminess is something you're capable of. Besides, she does like you back." Your eyes go wide. "But- you said-" "That she was oblivious to your affections. I never said she didn't hold similar ones regarding you. With my influence her family did have me over for business-dinners now and then. I'm not much for sea-food but it was always nice to spend time with Miranda afterwards. It'd be a lie by omission to not admit to some girl-talk about crushes, and she -always- got the slightest bit flustered when your name was on her lips." Your heart feels all kinds of good, bad and confused right about now. "Y-you're serious?" "I don't lie Vicky. Well I do, actually, mostly when people make deals with me from a position of weakness, but I wouldn't lie about this." She rests her hand over yours. "There are few people I'd say I actually care about outside of my family. Miranda's one of them. I'm telling you this because if there's anyone I know that can take care of her AND keep her happy, it's you. To that end, try and take her out after she gets back from Amira's next week." "But what if we get attacked?" "That's why I said when you get her back. While she's being guarded by Amira and Brian, you'll be joining Valerie for some target practice. She likes to refresh her skills every so often and she's more than happy to have you along. Polina should be fine here, if that Mephistopheles guy hasn't already broken in to try and get to her I'm guessing there's some sort of archaic law that prevents such behavior when collecting contracts. Probably something to do with you sheltering her. She's getting better, true, but if she bounces from one set of walls to the next with no time outside, this apartment and that house will feel like gilded cages after a while." It's a lot to take in but you nod confidently. "Ok. I think I can do all that. I mean I've made it this far right?" "That's certainly something to be proud of." 

Valerie steps out of the bathroom and jokingly slaps Veras hand as though she were tagging in. She enters, and Valerie turns to talk to you. This time around it's mostly just catching up and gossip, and you're glad for it. There's only so much you can get dropped on you at once, and you've certainly had your fill of revelations for the day. The weekend came and went with you dropping Miranda off at Amira's house before driving out to some ranch to shoot pistols with Valerie and wear cowboy hats. It was a nice reprieve from everything, but you remembered what Vera said, about getting her out of the house more. You asked around and thought long and hard about somewhere safe but fun to take her. You could certainly say that the night started out fun...

But it proved to be anything but safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's everything from my backlog. Anything written from here on out will be new material, influenced by reader feedback. Thanks for making it this far. Hope it was worth the read. 
> 
> Quick question, though. I did technically make a new series for this to be a part of in the event I do side-stories to this fic. Should chapters that don't focus on Vicky's perspective, (ones from the rest of the color squad, Polly, the villains, etc.) be made side stories, or should they be made regular chapters to this fic? Again, thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. If you notice any spelling or grammar errors, feel free to point them out. 
> 
> Also, the parts of the chapter titles in parentheses are songs that remind me of either the story scenes themselves or some of the elements.


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